37days

Come, let's ride brightly painted inner tubes, you and I

If you have watched TV commercials for the new teeniny microscopic MacBook Air, perhaps you will recognize this song by Yael Naim. Come, let's ride brightly painted inner tubes, play cymbals in a field of sunflowers, sing with a gorgeous Israeli-French accent, and realize that there is a whole big world out there, ripe for the dancing and for the floating. That's real air.

With gratitude for this intentional community

We were born to unite with our fellow men, and to join in community with the human race. -Cicero

As this third year of 37days ends, I’ve spent this last week reading again the comments left on this site in 2007—and visiting the websites of their authors, as well as re-reading the hundreds of emails I’ve received from 37days readers these past twelve months, each telling a story, holding me up, helping me understand things I hadn’t seen before. And for that, my gratitude, my thanks.

To everyone who has emailed me directly, my thanks to you. It is a gift to hear from you about how my stories have held meaning for you, and to hear your own stories—and to acknowledge how similar our journeys are, after all. And to the people below who posted comments on 37days in 2007, my thanks again for engaging, for leaving words of wisdom for us all to ponder and learn from. So much of the charm of Blog World comes from our serendipitous “findings”; perhaps in this list, if you dip into the links, you’ll find whole new worlds of insight from wonderful writers and thinkers and human beings becoming. I hope I haven’t missed anyone; if I have, let me know and please accept my apologies. With thanks for your engagement with me in this exploration of life; you give me so much:

Marilyn, Dan, Carolyn, Catherine, Nicole, Gay, Sarah, Leanne (may she rest in peace--Leanne passed away this year at age 48 after a brief illness), Mr Brilliant, Christy, Andy, Kismet, Marcia, Katie, Carol, Joy, Esther, Shelley, Ferruty, Theresa, Chris, Joy K, RedSonja, Aurora, Betsy, Franky, Sue, Karrie, Heidi, Elizabeth, Deirdre, Cate, Nicholas, Tana, Wendy, Mel, Cynthia, Jane Poe, Pearl, Hilde, Melanie, Kim, Jeff, Denise, runliarun, Mardougrrl, Dan, Liesl, Sally, vanesscipes, Jylene, Bill, Diana, Tracy, Michael, Shawn, Maryam in Marrakesh, Sebastian, Mahima, Meg, Sognatrice, Jasper, Jackie, Ellouise, Shelley, Anitha, Danielle, Bob, Nikki, Andrea, Eliza, Chris K., Josiane, Pete A., Robert, Leah, Karen, Carmen, Ruby, Donna T., Brenda L., Robert, Kelly, Jill, Becca, Clem, Carla, Tori, Mary, Roberta, Lisa G., Kelly, Lyco, David, SL, Julie, Meg, Nina, Chris B., Kay, Ro, RDL, Shonnie, Kylie, Lydia, David Z., David D., Colleen, Writerbug, Michelle, JCR, terrilynn, Angelfeet, Mary M., iswan, Kate I, Adele W., eb, Lela, Grace T., AdriftAtSea, Virginia P., Martha A., Shephard, Marcia, Zoely, Callipygia, Shannon, Carolyn, M-S, Marie, Stella, Jim, ChelleR, Catherine, inlandempiregirl, The Purloined Letter, Viaggiatore, Kurt, Barbara, Lisa G., Kelly Rae, Lisa, Lucy, Maggie, Laura, David Z., Boadicea, Donna S., janewilk, Sue M., Heather R., Nicole, Howard H., Kat, Brain, Per Stromsjo, Paul T., Becca, Teresa, Red, SSH, thodarumm, t, Kikipotamus the Hobo, Miss G Marshall, Timothy, Eva, k, Laurel, Midwest Kitchen, Maura, Alexander, JL, jana, Melissa, Callipygia, Emma W., John, Amy, Roger von Oech, Jim Ley, aileen, Ann Moore, amy, m, tali, vfa, Emily, Dawn, tallulah, Terri, Frivolitea, Lill, Debra Roby, Dean, Pia K, Granny Sue, Timothy Johnson, Jay River, Michael Wagner, Lela Davidson, Tim Davies, Roselyn, Anitha, Ramona, david cooper, Andy, Rosemary a.k.a. Ms. Marshall, Kate, Rick, Leia Lona, Allan Smithee, Beth, Sergio Fucchi, Christine Martell, Katiebean, K, Marica Sevelj, Fey, Margery Glickman, Emily, Betsey, Becky, Brandi, Deborah, Adriaan, Bill Mea, Richard Atkinson, grace, T., Meta Hara, Julie, Megan, Priscilla Palmer, Joh, Steve Sherlock, Terri, carolee, Amy McCracken, ellouise, Roger, Shelley Dickerson, Lill Hawkins, Radiant woman, Raquel Xamani Icart, maddie, Roberta Youtan Kay, Carmen, Esther, Catherine, Mary Anne, Ann Moore, Toni, Chelsea, Kim Moser, Karen (Lion and Magic Boy), Jack Yan, blue girl, ren.kat, Chris, Shula, Mike Duffy, rebecca, Sara Gold, Jayne, Jennifer, Julie, david, Trish, Chris Bailey, Donna (kygirl), bee, Cate, Maxine Dangerous, tanaya, Lori Pelham Cobbs, Carla, Meg, Voice of Sanity, Susi, Kerstin, Carrine Langley, Jillian, Ann Torrence, Dean Fuhrman, Kris, Vera, Virginia W. Pence, Dr. Jillian T. Weiss, Joan Fowler, Nancy MacDonald, The Old Foodie, Jeannie, Lela, Susan, Gerry, mary castagnoli, Connie, Jeannie, Chris Corrigan, Jeris, Jeremy, Rita Cartwright, Danielle Keister, Christine Kane, Catherine Faherty, storyteller, Karynne Courts, kim, David B. Drake, Liz Plummer, Jill, jenclair, Tina Su, Judy, Kait, Sandy Renshaw, Tyn, Lela, Cindy Jones Lantier, NaughtsNCrosses, Nina, Princess Haiku, Wyanne, stephanie, Judith Green, sue, Susan, atticus, Joan, LLinda, e.beck, Kathryn Knoll, Talia, Callie, Viv McWaters, Nancy Bea, Amy Lenzo, Matt, Kelli Schwert, Victoria, Fred, Tawanda, Dawn, colleen, Jeris, Nancy, Caren, John Maver, piscesgrrl, dandelionseeds, Cat, Dave Pollard, Carrie K, lawyerpoet, Betsy Hilt, Katie Green, Ronnie Brown, Sharon, t -rae, Donna, Joh, Barbara D., Karen...

Shall we continue the conversation on the other side of 2007, in 2008 and beyond? Let's.

[sculpture from here]

Becoming Larger Than Our Skin Allows

And no, that title isn't a reference to overeating.

In the U.S., today is Thanksgiving Day (and my friend Karrie Manson's birthday, so a shout out to her for being so powerful that the nation stops when she ages). This year, I'm not spending Thanksgiving at a long table full of vegan alternatives to turkey, but hunched over a computer screen like a madwoman, panicked at my book deadline next week and snarking at my family when they breathe too loudly. What was I thinking?, I'll be thinking, in one of those beautiful infinite regresses of thinking, the fear that emerges from finality, essays congealed into book form.

Soon, I'm sure I'll give in to the overwhelming urge to eat cranberry sauce from a can, as detailed last year this time on 37days,and will pop the Tofurky into the oven. But not before being thankful, and deeply so, for all of you who come here and read my few words and email and comment and hold me up when I'm falling. My deepest thanks.

My glorious friend Sid Jordan sent a Thanksgiving message this morning that I'd like to share with you this fine day. Let us lift each other up.

Becoming Larger Than Our Skin Allows

We seek metaphors
To describe our friendships
But alas, even these fall short of our true emotions
So we joke, tell stories, and hold each other
Accepting the inner weaving of our connections
As part of the evolving tapestry of our lives

What is amazing to me
Is how little it takes to impact another human being
In profound and deep ways
Simply by being present
By witnessing each others stories
By honoring each others thoughts and feelings

It is physically possible to lift each other up
And hold each other under a starlit sky
Enough to feel the power of the universe enfold us
Wrapping us up with simultaneous feelings of love and immensity
Yes, we are only a speck in the whole of things
Yet, our love mingled with the love of others
Is more immense than we can ever intellectually know

Our ability to tap into the collective energy of the world
Allows us to transcend our language
Each of us becoming larger than our skin allows
Each of us finding power
From the source of our humility and awe
But mostly from each other
As our hands work to lift each other higher

-Doc Klein

With gratitude for the ampersand

"I am a part of all that I have met." - Tennyson

The end of a year brings closure of many kinds. Some involve owning what didn’t get done that year; others involve thankfulness, still others center on the celebration of things accomplished, friendships deepened, things and people let go of, even.

As this second year of 37days ends, I spent today reading again the comments left on this site in 2006, as well as the hundreds of emails I’ve received from 37days readers these past twelve months, each telling a story, holding me up, helping me understand things I hadn’t seen before. And for that, my gratitude, my thanks.

Open your hand

“To receive everything, one must open one's hands and give.” –Taisen Deshimaru

“If my hands are fully occupied in holding on to something, I can neither give nor receive.”  -Dorothee Solle

One of the wisest people I know is a man named Eliav Zakay from Israel, CEO of a national youth leadership program there and formerly with the Israel Defense Force Leadership Development School.

Know the point of your life

“Sheridan's gifts as a teacher were as rare as the purity of his passion. Wherein did these gifts lie? In his brilliance? Yes. In his mastery of his subject? Of course. In his capacity for lucid, concrete, and vivid explanation? Again, yes. But there is another factor, one whose roots lie in magic or the supernatural. Sheridan had charm.” --Jonathan Malino, Eulogy for Sheridan Simon, 11 April 1994

This week – today, actually – marks the eleventh anniversary of a death, a death far too young and far too fast and far too unfair. To keep him alive, I want you to meet a most special human being, an extraordinary mind, a brilliant writer, one of the very funniest people I’ve ever met, and a most amazing teacher. A man with definite charm.

Embrace your clearness committee

“Whenever I climb, I am followed by a dog named Ego.” –Friedrich Nietzche

I came across a story this week that intrigued me. I could see myself in it, if truth be told, and perhaps if you squint, you can see some tiny part of yourself in it as well.

It’s a story about Parker Palmer, a Quaker educator and author of the book Let Your Life Speak, in which he writes about a time he was offered the presidency of a large educational institution. He was thrilled with the thought of the status, pay raise, and influence he would have with the new position.

Reconnect, now.

"If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?" 
- Stephen Levine

A woman I used to work with in Washington, DC, died on January 12, 2005.

I was shocked and angered on many levels: first, I was shocked that she was 72 years old. Having never known her age when I worked with her, it's just that I believed her to be closer to my age than to my mother's.   Secondly, that she died of cancer - I'm furious that people continue to suffer from and die of cancer in such numbers. (Just an aside: How does this continue to happen? Where are our funding priorities in this country? Is there something I should be doing?). And thirdly, that unbeknownst to me, she lived (and died) just 3 miles from my house.